


Snapetober 2020: "It's Not That Simple" Edition

by FelixFelicisWriter



Series: It's Never Simple [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Snapetober, falling, self hatred, sick/fever, sxvxrxssnape's Snapetober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26854066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelixFelicisWriter/pseuds/FelixFelicisWriter
Summary: A wee collection of short Snyrah fics inspired by Snapetober2020 Tumblr's prompts.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: It's Never Simple [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1277528
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21
Collections: Snapetober





	1. Day 5: Sick/Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is set in chapter 28 (when Severus is cursed, before asking Harry for any ideas for Skyrah's birthday).

**THE PERKS OF BEING CURSED**

During Potions class, Professor Snape normally walked from desk to desk, sneered at some so-called dunderheads for being incapable of following the instructions in the blackboard, and generally made sure as few accidents as possible occurred, especially when Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan were involved. He had started off the Erumpent Potion class that way. Fifteen minutes later, he had begun to lean on the desks and walk too slowly. By mid-class, he had given up altogether and sat at his desk, pretending to correct essays even if his quill kept slipping through his trembling fingers. Draco had been stealing glances at his teacher through it all.

“Make sure Crabbe and Goyle don’t spoil the potion,” Draco whispered to Blaise, getting off his stool.

“Where are you going?” wondered Pansy, the one in charge of noting down all the changes the unfinished potion underwent.

“To the loo.”

Both Blaise and Pansy eyed him suspiciously but still gave him a nod. Without wasting time, Draco approached his professor.

“Sir?”

This close, Draco noticed two things. First, Snape’s forehead, usually knitted into a scowl, was now glinting with sweat. Second, Snape’s face was pallid, more so than usual.

“The instructions are clear, Mr. Malfoy. Read them carefully before interrupting me,” he advised, keeping his black eyes on the parchment with barely legible handwriting.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It isn’t about the potion. I need to go to the toilet. It’s an emergency.”

There was a brief pause in which Draco held his breath.

“You may go. Do be quick, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

Draco walked along the corridors, went past the boys’ toilets, climbed up the stairs, and reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The desks formed a U-shape inside of which the first-year students produced jets of red sparks from their wands, some more successful than others. As soon as he spotted Professor Skyrah, closely observing her students and taking notes to later grade their performance, Draco called her. That caught the attention not only of his teacher but also of a few students, now staring at him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. Professor Snape’s got a message for you. A _private_ one.”

Immediately, she beckoned Draco to approach her desk and cast a _muffliato_ charm.

“Nobody can hear us now,” she assured him. “You may speak.”

“Did Professor Snape meet with the Dark Lord last night? He was crucioed, wasn’t he?”

With squinting eyes, she inquired, “Why are you asking?”

“Did he drink some potion against the cruciatus curse after-effects?” Her lips remained pursed. “I’ve been observing Professor Snape in class. He looks… dizzy. He can’t stand, is sweating, slightly shaking. I’m not a healer, but my father’s gone through that once or twice after drinking that potion. I’d say they’re side-effects.”

“Severus only had a bit of a headache this morning.”

“With all due respect, Professor, I didn’t risk lying to my Head of House just for his wife to think I’m making this up.”

“You lied to my husband?”

“I asked for permission to go to the toilet, but I came here instead.”

“You never go to the toilet mid-lesson… He must be truly sick if he didn’t catch that you were up to something.” She closed her eyes, took a big breath and smiled – it wasn’t the reaction Draco had expected from her. Everything fell into place when she drew circles with her wand and pronounced, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The same crow he had met during his first Defence class with her flapped its wings in front of them. The students who had taken notice of Draco earlier were now gasping in awe. Draco couldn’t help but admire the crow with bitter jealousy; what he’d give to invoke a corporeal patronus someday, and maybe prove his aunt Bellatrix wrong and show her Malfoys were also capable of that.

“Argus, it’s Skyrah. Please, come to my classroom. I need you to watch over the students for me. It’s important.”

The crow flew away to deliver the message.

“I should get going, or Professor Snape will realize I’ve lied to him,” said Draco.

“He’ll realize anyway. There’s no other way I could have found out about his… state.”

“...Will you cover me up?”

“Should I?”

“I should receive House points. I may have just avoided a potions accident by telling you. The erumpent potion is quite dangerous.”

She smirked at his cheekiness. “Must I forget that you lied to your Potions teacher?”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him that he looks like a ghost?”

“That wouldn’t have ended well,” she agreed, grinning lopsidedly. “Why didn’t you go to Poppy?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea if Madam Pomfrey knows anything about the cruciatus curse treatment. I figured that you, on the other hand…”

“Would have some experience,” she finished for him, not confirming it nor denying it.

With a swish of her wand, the _muffliato_ charm was removed. She targeted a silver service bell on the teacher’s desk and pressed it with an uttered _sonorus_. The ringing noise was loud enough to command the attention of the entire class.

“Training time is over. I’m afraid my presence is required elsewhere,” she informed, standing up. A bunch of students made sounds of protest which became louder when they caught sight of the inseparable duo of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Skyrah gave the caretaker a thankful nod and addressed the students once again. “Next day we will discuss how to defend ourselves against gytrashes. For us to succeed, we first need to understand how the dark creature acts. Therefore, you ought to start reading on them right now, chapter five, and write down questions in case you have them. Argus will supervise the class. If you don't behave yourselves, I’ll know, and you won’t like the consequences.”

She shot a meaningful glance to the quartet of troublemakers of the class and left the classroom, Draco close behind her. He had to match his strides to her quick pace and fight the urge to roll his eyes at the portraits’ whines. Apparently, the click-clacking of her shoes had disrupted the sleep of those that were too lazy to do something other than napping. It was the same sound that alerted Draco’s classmates. When they saw it was Professor Skyrah, accompanied by Draco, whispers filled the potions classroom. Severus didn’t react until Skyrah and Draco were standing right in front of his desk. Even then, he raised his head slowly, grimacing.

“Mr. Malfoy, I see your supposedly short trip to the toilet has become an expedition of sorts. Ten points from Sl–”

“If you deduct points, I’ll give them back.” She paused to cast the _muffliato_ charm again and have a private conversation, even if they were the center of attention. “You look horrible.”

“You’re the very definition of ‘flatterer’.”

“It isn’t the time to be sarcastic, Severus. You can’t teach in this state, much less a highly explosive potion. It is a matter of safety. Draco did well by telling me you’re sick.”

“I’ve kept the class safe. There haven’t been any incidents.”

“Pure luck.”

Sick as he felt, it didn’t escape his notice how Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

“Did you come to scold me in front of our students?” asked Severus.

She gave him a mischievous smile and turned to face the class after canceling the effects of the _muffliato_ charm. 

“Class dismissed.”

“But we’ve almost fi–”

She cut Pansy off, “I won’t repeat it.”

Pansy and a few students – including Hermione – pouted and sighed. The majority were happy to tidy up and go, though. Draco was part of the latter group and left as soon as Skyrah thanked him. In contrast, Harry locked eyes with Skyrah, concerned, but did as the rest of his classmates after receiving a reassuring nod. The Snapes didn’t doubt that they’d be getting a visit from him after classes.

“I don’t think you have a fever,” she said, putting her hand on Severus’s forehead. He responded by leaning into her hand. Now that no students remained in the classroom, a moment of weakness was permitted, or so he told himself. “Draco mentioned you can't stand. I’ll levitate you and bring you to the Hospital Wing, all right?”

“Don’t. My stomach… I can’t handle it.”

She slithered her palm from his forehead to his cheek. The caresses were as gentle as her voice when she said, “Why did you tell me you only had a headache this morning?”

“I didn’t feel so unwell.”

“Yet when that changed, you continued with the class.”

“Interrupting it wasn’t wise. The ingredients are expensive. Now the money plus the potions the students were brewing have gone to waste. Albus won’t be pleased.”

“You’re right. He won’t be pleased to know you prioritize money over your health. You can resume the lesson another day, Severus. Lean on me now. I’ll take you to our chambers; they’re closer than the Hospital Wing.”

Along the way, he grunted and almost fell when he tried to prove he was fine enough to walk on his own. The only reason he didn’t was that he had miraculously grabbed the arm of one of the suits of armor that decorated the corridors. Thank Merlin no students were nearby... nor Minerva. His reputation as the bat of the dungeons would have suffered. Finally, she whispered the password and the door opened for them. 

“Hang on, Severus. I’ll help you get into bed.”

“No. Not yet. I think I’m going to vomit.”

She would have kissed his temple if it weren’t for the urgency in his tone. Even if clumsily, they made it to the bathroom. She helped him kneel by the toilet and rubbed his back soothingly, holding his hair for him until his stomach was empty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breathing harshly and refusing to look at her.

“For what?”

“This has been excruciatingly embarrassing and disgusting.”

“You’ve done this for me countless times, Severus. It’s okay for the roles to be reversed now and then.” By his tense shoulders, he was thinking about the miscarriage. So was she, for her voice had shaken and her hand had drifted to the place they used to feel their unborn daughter. “Can you brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I’ll send Poppy a message. She shouldn’t take long.”

“There’s nothing she can do. I’ve been through this before. It’ll go away after getting some sleep. The potion must have reacted poorly to my breakfast, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly, her wand ready to invoke her patronus once more.

“Absolutely.”

“All right… Do you need anything?”

“Some water, perhaps.”

So while he brushed his teeth, she summoned a glass from their kitchen and filled it with a simple _aguamenti_. Severus drank its water and left the glass by the sink. 

Soon, he was under the silky bedsheets, surrounded by the pillows she had adjusted for him after contacting the headmaster via the school floo network to explain the situation and advise him to seek a substitute for the upcoming lessons.

“How are you feeling?” she wondered, running her hands through his bare chest. She was lying by his side, with her head on his shoulder.

“Not fine yet, but better.” Skyrah nuzzled her head into him and hooked her leg around him. “You shouldn’t get comfortable. You’ve got a class to teach.”

“I’ve got a stubborn husband to take care of.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Too bad. I won’t move until you start snoring.”

He groaned, exasperated, though his grip on her became just a tiny bit firmer. Skyrah missed his feeble grin, too busy playing with his chest hair and kissing his scarred skin.

“I may not need you to take care of me, but I don’t dislike it.”

“I know, my snarky Potions Master,” she said, chuckling softly. If he went as far as confessing that, it could only mean he was so exhausted he could no longer control what went past his lips. “Rest now.”

He complied, thinking he owed Draco. Vomiting in front of his students would have been a fate worse than cuddling with his wife. That was a fact.


	2. Day 18: Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my contribution to Snapetober2020, day 18: falling. It takes place sometime in December, Harry's fifth year. The Snapes are expecting Corbin already, but they don't know that yet.

**SEVERUS SNAPE AND THE VARIOUS ARTS OF FALLING**

Severus was sitting on the leather armchair opposite Minerva's, separated by a circular table. On it, there was a chess set, a bowl filled with Honeydukes's toffee and two cups of tea. The players had gathered a small fan club that showed so much interest one would think the final Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch Cup match was taking place, rather than a regular wizard's chess match.

"Severus will win," said Filius, standing on a stack of books.

"It wouldn't be the first time Minerva's beaten him when all hope seemed lost," countered Albus.

Skyrah didn't agree nor disagree with either of them. Her eyes were focused on the position of the pieces, envisioning possible moves and its consequences. She barely heard her husband teasing Minerva, with that arrogant expression and matching tone of voice.

"I'm afraid you're losing your touch. Your mind used to be sharper."

"You all used to be quieter, too," snapped Minerva. "It's impossible to concentrate."

Her excuses amused Severus, who took his mug to take a sip and, thus, hide his smirk. It didn't hide the shrewd glint of his eyes. His face, however, creased into a deepening frown when he saw Skyrah whispering to Minerva.

"But why would I–"

"Trust me, Minerva. I've watched Severus play against Harry before. I know his weaknesses."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Skyrah. "Have you just told my opponent what to do?"

A cheeky grin was the answer he got. The more Severus stared at her, the more the grin broadened as if her lips had touched some swelling solution. _Insufferable witch._

"If you heed my wife's advice, you'll be cheating," he said, eyeing Minerva. "You wouldn't go against the values of your 'noble' House, would you?"

"Considering you spent almost ten minutes discussing a move with Filius, I believe Godric Gryffindor himself would allow me to 'cheat', as you put it."

"I didn't follow his advice in the end."

"It still wasn't fair play. I'm entitled to listen to Skyrah. Bishop to C4."

The men in the room were left with identical puzzled faces as the piece advanced.

"Bishop to C4? I had figured you would have seen that was exactly what I wanted you to do. It doesn't benefit you. In fact, it brings me closer to victory," said Severus matter-of-factly, looking at Skyrah in search of answers.

He had never played against her. She preferred to watch him and Harry and offer the boy some advice when it was clear he was stuck. Since Harry's skills couldn't compare to Severus's, he allowed it. With that said, the advice Skyrah offered Harry was certainly wiser than the advice she had just offered Minerva. It could only mean she was pretending to help Minerva while silently teaming up with him, couldn't it? _Not that insufferable, after all._

"Your turn, Severus," replied Minerva, grinning so slyly one would think she had more Slytherin in her than she let on, when, in truth, she was utterly confused and had simply pinned her faith on Skyrah.

If Severus hadn't been a Slytherin himself, he would have believed her confidence. He saw straight through her, though. _Yes, Minerva, trust my wife_ , Severus thought with a crooked smile, taking another sip.

"King to B5."

Minerva resisted the urge to cover her eyes, already picturing one of the black pieces kicking off her white king like the black king was doing with her bishop. She regarded the remaining pieces and took a sip herself, hoping they wouldn't notice how nervous she was getting. Severus beat her the last time they played. Another defeat wouldn't do her reputation as a chess player good.

"Bishop to…" Minerva trailed off, seeing Skyrah was subtly shaking her head. "Pawn…" She received a nod and watched as Skyrah made a C-shape with her fingers, only to dissimulate by tucking a lock of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear. "To C..." Skyrah adjusted one of her shirt cuffs visible under her outer robes, holding out four fingers in the process. "Four. Pawn to C4."

"What in Salazar Slytherin's name…" started Severus. It hadn't escaped him that Minerva was nodding her thanks at Skyrah. Advice on one move, he could tolerate. Two moves, though? Even if she intended to secretly help him by misleading Minerva, he wanted to win by himself. He didn't fancy his wife intervening more than necessary. "Skyrah, if you are so keen on chess, we can play later. This is between Minerva and me."

Skyrah raised an eyebrow at him. "Afraid you'll lose if I help her out?"

"Not at all. Minerva and I began the match. We should finish it," he said, ignoring her question on purpose.

"And you will… with some help. Filius appears as excited as me to join the match. What do you say?"

"I'm in," said Filius, not waiting for Severus's opinion.

"It'd be the fairest solution, Severus, considering you and Filius have already acted as a team. The same can be said about Minerva and Skyrah," Albus approved, putting a toffee into his mouth.

It wasn't like Severus could say no to the headmaster. He grunted, and sneered, and inwardly cursed Skyrah for being so charmingly meddlesome, and the rest for accommodating her. After discussing with Filius, Severus ordered the king to kick off the other bishop and grinned triumphantly. Minerva had already lost three turns ago. Now she would move her pawn and it would give him and Filius the chance to checkmate.

Or so they had assumed until Skyrah spoke.

"Queen to B3."

Filius gaped.

Albus clapped.

Minerva almost bounced in her seat.

Severus stared at the chessboard unblinkingly. _Skyrah's been playing against me all this time._

"I didn't see that one coming."

"Obviously, Filius, neither of us did, or else we wouldn't be facing our upcoming defeat," hissed Severus. It was a good thing the Hogwarts staff was used to his temper.

"There must be a way to get out of this one," insisted Filius, touching his beard pensively.

Amused, Albus unwrapped a second toffee and said, "I'll be greatly surprised if you do."

Fortunately for Albus, looks, however deadly they looked, couldn't kill. Otherwise, Filius and Severus would have finished him off already.

The men's team began discussing possible strategies in vain. The more the minutes ticked by, the more frustrated Filius got. Severus should have been as annoyed as him. He was, at first, but then he realized how brilliant Skyrah's initial advice to Minerva had been, letting him think his victory was nigh and even helping him achieve it when, in reality, Skyrah had forged an alliance with Minerva and was already thinking ahead and taking advantage of his overconfidence. He banished his feeling of irritation to the point he couldn't help but stare at her and her self-satisfied smirk in silent admiration, with his mouth half-open, threatening to curve into something akin to a smile.

"They've won. We can only move the king to A5," concluded Filius, getting a distracted nod from Severus, who was too busy thinking about how kissable Skyrah's lips looked, wondering if a kiss from her would taste of toffee. Had Albus been the only one to eat some?

"Queen to B5. Checkmate," concluded Minerva.

Accepting defeat, Filius shook hands with both witches and congratulated them on the entertaining match. Albus did the same.

"You didn't tell us you play chess, Skyrah," he added.

"I don't often play it. Even as a kid, I preferred exploding snap. That doesn't mean I'm bad at it."

"That is evident," claimed Filius. "Queen to B3. Magnificent. Simply magnificent!"

"Is Severus okay?" asked Minerva.

Simultaneously, their heads turned to him. He was still wearing that awe-struck expression on his face. Skyrah had seen it on him on numerous occasions.

When she put her hand on his cheek on their wedding night, and kissed it.

That one time she pretended she hadn't become aware of his presence while she sang to herself in their garden in Cokeworth.

When she gave him and Harry a small History lecture while visiting a muggle museum.

After he made her laugh with his sarcastic sense of humor.

The few first seconds after discovering her patronus matched his.

In the afterglow of sex.

It was the first time that he looked at her like that in front of his colleagues.

"I thought you'd take it badly," she said, approaching him.

"Mmh?"

"Your defeat."

"Ahh… Yes. Me too," he admitted, back to his senses. Out of embarrassment, he didn't even glimpse at Filius, Minerva and Albus.

"So you aren't angry even if I took Minerva's side?"

"No, although I am confused," he admitted, rising from his seat. "What, pray tell, motivated you to do such a thing? I had figured you'd choose to be part of my team, considering you took my surname. I thought you had until it was too late."

"I wanted to get even, childish as it may sound."

"Whatever for?"

"This morning you took the last brownie we baked," she reminded him, poking his chest for emphasis.

"Allow me to object to your statement. Reading the recipe the house-elves lent you plus measuring the ingredients hardly counts as anything remotely close to baking."

Nor did the stolen kisses and teasing touches he received throughout the baking process. Not that he'd say that out loud.

"It was the first time I attempted to make brownies. I didn't want to spoil them."

"You two made _brownies_?" asked Minerva, covering her mouth to hide her smile.

Albus and Filius appeared intrigued and surprised respectively.

"Is it funny?" asked Severus in a tone that told her it wasn't the time to tease him.

"We would have never guessed you have a sweet tooth," Filius answered for her.

"My wife does."

"Nonetheless, you ate the last brownie," Albus pointed out, eyes twinkling.

"I swear by the four Hogwarts founders, if any of you tells our colleagues, or Merlin forbid, a student, I will–"

"Oi, Severus! Don't finish that sentence. Your reputation will remain intact," Skyrah assured him. "If you ask them kindly, they won't tell because they respect you. Besides, nobody would believe them even if they swore on it."

That, fortunately, was the truth. Filius, Minerva and Albus still got a menacing look from Severus. Skyrah put her hand on his cheek to stroke it and draw his attention back to her.

"It's a pity you aren't in the slightest mad at me," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "I really enjoyed myself that time we had angry sex. I was hoping to repeat it."

Oh, Circe. Yes. He had enjoyed himself too. A lot. The make-up sex that had followed had been glorious as well. At the memory alone, he had to bite his lip to hold back a faint moan. But then he remembered they were being observed and had to overcome his urge to laugh at himself. By Merlin! He had just fallen into her trap. The chess match had never mattered. She had only cared about him later making her scream his name in pleasure while she scratched his back with her nails and he gripped her hips almost painfully. Her Horned Serpent Slytherin mind never failed to surprise him. He found the way it operated so fascinating that he was starting to feel as giddy as if he'd just had two glasses of Superior Red, the kind of wine Lucius liked to serve.

Her master plan had failed, though, for rather than having angry sex he felt like meticulously worshipping all her body. He wanted to take his time, be gentle and caring and vulnerable with her, touch her heart and soul, and pleasure her until she was physically drained. He would make her fall in love with him all over again as she was doing to him with that smug grin of hers he so craved to wipe off her face with a long kiss.

Before he could reply, she added, "I have to go to my office now."

"Why? You finished planning next week's lessons before having lunch. I thought we could go to our quarters and… relax."

"I'd love to, but Fred and George Weasley were prowling along the corridors past curfew last night, plotting only-Merlin-knows-what. I had to put them in detention. I'll meet you in our quarters in about an hour and a half, all right?" His ears, covered by his hair, began to blaze after she sealed the deal with a kiss on the tip of his hooked nose. "I love you, even if you eat my brownies."

" _Our_ brownies."

"A-ha! You admit it! I also participated."

"You're incorrigible."

"You still tolerate me quite well."

His heart stopped beating for a moment. Once again, he was amazed by her, hypnotized by the way she teased him and joked with him and beamed at him. She gave his cheek a final caress and nodded at Filius, Minerva and Albus as a goodbye, promising to play chess with them more often.

If she had looked back before shutting the door, she'd have caught Severus bringing his hand to the place her palm had been, with the silliest grin Albus, Minerva and Filius had ever seen on his face, exhibiting his uneven teeth.

"He reminds me of someone..." murmured Minerva low enough Severus wouldn't hear her. It wouldn't have mattered if she had been louder. He was unaware of anything other than his fantasies, some of which were more innocent than others, and his racing heartbeat. "Have you caught sight of Mr. Longbottom drooling over Ms. Lovegood in the Great Hall lately?"

Filius snickered.

Holding a laugh back himself, Albus advised, "Don't let Severus hear that comparison, Minerva."

It wasn't until Filius and Minerva left the teachers' room – the former under the petition of a Prefect and the latter to grade a pile of assignments – that Albus put a hand on Severus's shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

"You are falling in love. Terribly fast. Deeply." Severus opened his mouth, to say what, he wasn't sure. It wasn't like denying the truth worked when Albus was involved. Anyway, Albus interrupted him before Severus could defend himself, his tone nostalgic, "It is an exhilarating feeling, isn't it? I am happy for you."

"...However?"

"You are playing a dangerous game, one more complicated than wizard's chess, with rules imposed by her father. He didn't choose you as her spouse for you to love her. In fact, I dare say it was for the contrary."

"What do you suggest? I can't stop myself from feeling what I feel for her." In a lower voice, he confessed, "I don't want to. I've never felt so… _alive._ "

"I would never ask you to stop loving someone. I'm asking you to be extra-careful during Death Eater meetings. The smallest mistake could give you away. It would put you both in peril."

Severus gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. What kind of torment would Voldemort put them through if he decided that Severus wasn't adequate for Skyrah anymore? Severus could very well suffer Skyrah's ex-fiancé's fate: death. Or worse. Voldemort could spare his life if he had other plans for him, and Severus would have to see how Voldemort forced his daughter to marry a fiercely loyal Death Eater and ask them to deliver him an heir. The thought alone sickened Severus.

"The Dark Lord doesn't suspect us. He never will. Skyrah and I are adept at Occlumency and know what is at stake. We play our roles well."

"I trust you," assured Albus, squeezing his shoulder. "I know you will do the right thing. The wizarding world depends on you, the world in which you will rear your future child."

Severus shut his eyes momentarily, getting a sudden flashback to the morning he swore he'd make sure their baby girl grew up in a safe world, only to lose her that same day. It still hurt. They hadn't really tried conceiving ever since. Not yet. They were too afraid of going through something similar while still grieving the daughter they would never hold.

"I fear Tom may start thinking you are testing his patience. It's been about six months since you got married," continued Albus. "Poppy could run fertility tests on you and Skyrah to make sure you aren't unsuited to the task you must fulfill."

"My wife and I are perfectly capable of conceiving a child. We only require more time." Albus stared at him as if he intuited there was something Severus was keeping secret. "If that is all, I'll go to the Greenhouses. Pomona mentioned she has herbs that the students could use in Potions class."

Albus nodded and watched as Severus headed for the exit.

"Severus, one last thing." With a lifted eyebrow, he turned to face Albus. "I expect you to save me a brownie the next time you and Skyrah decide to make some. I'm sure Minerva and Filius would appreciate it, as well. Christmas is around the corner..."


	3. Day 30: Self Hatred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is my last contribution to Snapetober2020, day 30: self hatred. As the prompt indicates, it's an angsty fic. Chapter 47 explains what happened after the meeting in which Charity died. This goes deeper. Again, I wouldn't have been able to post this on time if it had been betaed, so I apologize for any possible mistakes you may have encountered. I did my best.
> 
> I'll devote my fanfic writing time to the requested prompts from now on ;)

**A MAGNIFICENT SPY**

" _Lumos_ ," whispered Severus.

He ascended the stairs slowly, making sure they didn't creak under his feet and awaken anybody from their slumber. In the crib was his son, unaware of the pure evil and injustice in the world. Whenever Corbin smiled in his sleep, as he was doing now that his father was caressing his chubby cheeks, Severus would smile back. Not that night, though. He kissed Corbin on the forehead, making up for the goodnight kiss he had missed, and walked towards his own bedroom. The dim light coming through the half-open bedroom door told him that Skyrah, unlike her sister, Harry, and Corbin, wasn't sleeping. He peeped through the door.

She was seated on the bed, with his pillow positioned on her back and head. A History book – the one she read whenever she was anxious – lay on her flexed knees. His first thought was that the light the old lamp from the nightstand emitted made her skin glow.

Beautiful, she was beautiful.

Everything about the Death Eaters meeting had been hideous.

Malfoy Manor had been dark, cold. One look at his wife and he felt warmer. It still wasn't enough. He wanted her to look at him. Only then might he be able to forget Charity's eyes before she…

_Don't go there_ , he told himself.

At the creaking door, Skyrah shot her head up. His name tripped off her tongue, breathy. Her eyes were tender, inviting. She tossed the book onto the nightstand and leaped out of the bed.

Cupping his chin to inspect his face, she asked, "Are you wounded?"

_Yes. Not physically_. "No."

"Are you okay?"

_Not at all._ "Yes."

"Liar."

Despite having promised they wouldn't lie to each other, she did not sound incriminating but merely concerned. If there was something Severus disliked, that was worrying his wife.

"Did Corbin wake you up? Is that why you are awake?"

She took a step back, withdrawing her hands from his face, hurt.

"Is this what you think of me? That I'm incapable of staying awake for my husband?" Severus was about to reply when she held up her palm. "Corbin's been sleeping like a log."

He gulped at her cutting tone. "It is late. You should be resting."

"I can't rest when I'm worried."

"I do not want you to worry so much about me. It is not healthy."

She snorted. "I couldn't agree more. Ease my worries. You could start by telling me what happened in the meeting in which my father thought my presence and his heir's weren't needed." He drew in an intake of air and averted her gaze. More softly, she whispered, "Please."

_Severus… Please… Please… Help me!_

His face contorted in pain.

When Skyrah took his hand, he locked their gazes. Her eyes were full of love, begging. Merlin. How was he supposed to tell her? Would she hate him as much as he hated himself if she found out? He walked past her and sat on the edge of the bed, lowering his head. His hair might have covered his distressed face like a curtain, but it did nothing to muffle Voldemort's sibilant voice in his head.

_Dinner, Nagini._

Severus gripped the edges of the bed, biting his lip to keep from screaming. Skyrah's arm slithered around his waist. A kiss landed on the corner of his eye. It was then he noticed he had let a tear fall. She kissed his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and rested her head on his shoulder. After that, his heart did not ache so much.

"You don't have to tell me now… Just tell me what I can do for you for the time being. I just… I hate seeing you like _this_. I want to help you feel better, and I don't know how if I don't know what's going on."

He let out a shaky breath and leaned into her. Getting the hint, she tightened her grip on him and cuddled him in silence, waiting for him to make the next move.

"She said…" He trailed off. Skyrah raised her head, looking at him. "She said we were friends. She viewed me as her friend. I had to see her _die_."

Friends?

His circle of acquaintances was limited to say the least. Skyrah considered the people who could have died in that reunion. Whoever she was, she used to work at Hogwarts. All his friends worked there, except the Malfoys, if they could be considered friends.

"Narcissa?"

"No. No, Narcissa is fine. A bit sick after witnessing the scene, like her son, but Lucius will take care of his family."

"If the person isn't a Malfoy then…" He shut his eyes. His silence spoke volumes. With a sinking heart, Skyrah cupped his face, forcing him to make eye contact. "Who?"

He shook his head. "I don't want you to suffer more because of this damned war."

"I work at Hogwarts, too. I will find out sooner or later. I want to know it now."

He swallowed hard. "Professor Burbage… Charity."

Skyrah gasped, blinking back tears. Although they weren't close friends, Charity was passionate about her subject, terribly kind and tolerant, the kind of person that gave the desolate faith in humanity. She had appeared genuinely happy to find out about the Snapes' marriage, and had once babysat Corbin.

"Charity died thinking I was on the Dark Lord's side, a Death Eater."

"But you aren't," she whispered, squeezing his waist. "You are a good man."

"I sentenced her to death. Is that your definition of 'a good man'?"

His sarcasm didn't scare her. Nor did his self-loathing. She was used to them and knew how to combat them.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for her death. If you'd saved her, your loyalties would be exposed, and we'd be doomed. You saved hundreds of lives. This war would be lost without you. Most wouldn't have been able to keep their covers under such pressure. You fooled them all. You did your job as a spy, a magnificent job."

"Maybe I don't want to be a spy anymore!" He stood up to get away from her touch, breathing hard. "I don't! I _hate_ it. I have to see innocent people being tortured, murdered in cold blood, and there is nothing I can do about it."

She rose to her feet and clutched his trembling hand in hers, waiting until his breathing returned back to normal. He didn't push her away nor snap at her.

Taking it as a positive sign, she said, "I wish you didn't have to do this. Your life's on the line all the time. It frightens me, but we are in too deep. We can only make the best of this horrible situation so that, one day, we believe the sacrifices you made as a spy were worth it." He gulped soundly. Skyrah brought his hand to her mouth and gave it a chaste kiss. "Her death won't be in vain. Not hers. Not Albus's. Not our daughter's. Not Lily's or Daniel's… Not a single death caused by my father. We'll help Harry fight him."

Skyrah changed Severus's attire to his sleepwear with a flick of her wand. The lights went out next. She yanked him down to bed and spooned him from behind, nuzzling his hair.

"As your friend, Charity wouldn't like to know you hate yourself so much for something that was out of your control. You'll turn your pain into the motivation that keeps moving you. You're so brave, so admirable and _loveable_ ," she crooned, eliciting a sound from him that resembled a sob. "Shh. I love you. I love you even if you hate yourself."

She dropped kisses on his nape and shoulder until his breathing became regular and deep. Although his body appeared calm, his mind kept reeling. Charity's cries drilled his brain, as did Bellatrix's maniac laugh alongside the sound Nagini's fangs made when they sank into her skin. He could still smell the blood.

Skyrah drifted off to sleep thinking that, by the time he fell asleep in the comfort of her embrace, he would not feel so guilty. She had said it herself.

_You fooled them all._

Even her.

Even himself.

He'd convince himself that Charity had to die for the greater good, and he would believe his own lie like Voldemort believed his fake loyalty. He'd move on. He was, after all, a magnificent spy.

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been betaed (there was no way I could post it on time otherwise). I did my best. I apologize if you've found any mistakes.  
> Also, if you've been feeling unwell lately, do take care of yourself or allow someone to take care of you, like Snape does in this fic, okay?  
> Have a nice day <3


End file.
